Absolute Zero
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: 1987 series, my Exit the Fly verse. Disaster and tragedy strike on a snow-covered mountain when Raphael's attempt to stop Krang's latest invention instead appears to kill Barney Stockman.


**Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1987**

 **Absolute Zero**

 **By Lucky_Ladybug**

 **Notes: The characters are not mine and the story is! This is part of my** _ **Exit the Fly**_ **verse. Baxter is human again and an ally of the Turtles. His brother Barney, from season 4's** _ **Raphael Knocks 'Em Dead**_ **, works for Shredder.**

The wind howled, swirling the snow in countless spirals as the stand-off commenced: the Turtles, Baxter, and April standing on the ground in front of the Turtle Van, and Barney standing on Krang's latest invention, one hand firmly holding his deep purple laptop. His hair blew into his face as he stood poised to type out a command.

"Barney, what you're doing is madness!" Baxter cried. "Krang's plan to gather all the snow off this mountain and hold New York City hostage by dumping it there has to be his most preposterous scheme in ages!"

"He could do a lot worse," Barney replied. "All it will take is one command from me and it will start sucking up the snow." His fingers flew over the keyboard, ending with a very firm and precise application of the Enter key. The machine he was standing on came to life, whirring as it began to devour the snow nearest to it.

"I have to admit, this is an interesting invention," Donatello said.

"No duh, Dude," said Michelangelo. "You could scoop up some snow and bring it to the city to make sure you get a white Christmas!"

"That's not exactly what I had in mind," Donatello admitted, "but I guess that's true."

"Interesting or not, we can't just let one of Krang's schemes succeed!" Leonardo declared. "Let's go, Turtles!" He charged, followed by the others.

Raphael came up right beside Leonardo. "I've gotta say, I'm going to enjoy this." He threw a sai directly into the vacuum. "See how it sucks up that!"

Barney gave him a dark look. "That won't make enough of a difference to stop it." But he moved to jump off anyway.

The explosion was instantaneous. Everyone sailed backwards, crashing into the snow in all directions.

Baxter was the first to scramble up. "Barney!" he screamed. _"Barney!"_ He lunged at the burning machine, frantic, desperate. Only Leonardo and Donatello grabbing him from both sides kept him from plowing right into the inferno. "Let me go!" He pulled against them, but in vain. "Barney's in that! I have to get to him!"

"Baxter, you can't!" Leonardo cried.

"He was right in the thick of it!" Donatello added. "Baxter, he couldn't have survived!"

Baxter continued to fight them. It couldn't be true! He knew what he had seen. He knew what he was seeing now. But none of that mattered. Barney couldn't be dead. He had just fallen off into the snow. Maybe he was hurt, but he was alive. So was the alien computer whose motherboard was housed inside the laptop. They were both alive. There couldn't be any other explanation. There couldn't. . . .

He sank to his knees in grief-stricken anguish. "You did this!" he yelled when he saw Raphael stumble to his feet. "You knew what might happen if you clogged that vacuum, but you did it anyway! You didn't care because you hate him!"

"Hey, easy, Baxter," Leonardo said in concern. "Raphael wouldn't have done it on purpose knowing what would happen!"

"Oh no?" Raphael stood staring numbly at the blaze, clutching his remaining sai. "I don't know _what_ I was doing, Leonardo. Maybe I knew and really didn't care."

"No way!" Michelangelo hopped to his feet. "You're not like that, Raphael."

Raphael spun to face him, his eyes flashing with pain and guilt. "I don't know what I'm like, Michelangelo!" he snapped. "I just know I hated Barney Stockman!" His shoulders slumped. "And now he's dead . . . because of me."

April looked from him to Baxter, not sure whom to comfort first. "This is horrible," she said softly. "Dr. Stockman . . . Raphael . . . !"

A sudden beeping brought everyone's attention up. "What's that?!" Michelangelo exclaimed.

Almost blankly, Baxter reached into his pocket and took out the company Smartphone he had been issued as a staff member of Channel 6. "I have an email," he announced. "I don't recognize the address, but there's something familiar about it. . . ." He clicked on it and any remaining color drained from his face. "No. . . ." His hands shook so violently he dropped the phone into the snow.

Donatello reached and picked it up. As he did, he stole a glance at the email on the screen. "Oh boy." He looked to Baxter, who was trembling and covering his eyes with both hands.

"What is it?!" April cried.

Donatello laid a hand on Baxter's quaking shoulder. "It's an email from a dead man."

 _Baxter:_

 _If you're receiving this message, it's because my heart has stopped beating. I synced the laptop with my watch, which monitors my heart rate. This email was pre-programmed to send to you upon my death._

 _If you're wondering why I'm letting you know I'm dead, it's because of our mutual friend. Neither of us want to see it fall into Shredder and Krang's hands. Follow the GPS signal I'm sending you to find it before they do. You are the only other person who can access it._

 _Barney_

Raphael's expression darkened. "That is without a doubt the coldest message I have ever heard. I'm trying to feel bad for what I did. He's really making it hard."

Baxter finally looked up. "Is there a signal?"

Donatello studied the email. "Yeah . . . yeah, there is."

"Then the computer is still alive." Baxter stumbled to his feet. "I have to find it."

"Dude, how could it survive if Barney's . . ." Michelangelo swallowed hard.

"I don't know!" Baxter cried. "It must have fallen somewhere." He struggled forward through the deep snow, barely noticing that it went past his knees. "It's my friend. I won't let it down. Or Barney. . . ."

Michelangelo hurried after him without a moment's hesitation. "And we'll be right with you, Dude."

Baxter looked up, the gratitude in his eyes along with the immense grief and heartache. "Thank you," he rasped.

Michelangelo squeezed Baxter's shoulder. "We wouldn't be good buds if we didn't come along."

Baxter nodded and turned his attention back to the machine, which was burning out. All that was left was a skeleton of an invention. A choked cry left his lips as he caught sight of something shining in the snow. He reached out, plucking Barney's glasses from the white.

Raphael trembled. "I killed somebody," he whispered in horror. "I didn't mean to do it, but I _killed_ somebody. I hated him. . . . I even thought I wouldn't care that much if he died, even though I knew his brother would be heartbroken. . . ." He swallowed hard. "He was right there just a few minutes ago, trying to jump off that stupid machine. He didn't make it. I blew him to bits and those glasses are all that's left of him! That, and some living laptop. . . ."

Leonardo laid a hand on Raphael's shoulder. "It was an accident, Raphael. We all know you wouldn't deliberately try to kill Barney, or anyone else, unless you absolutely had to."

"I'm sure Baxter thinks I would," Raphael said forlornly. "I wasn't even sure myself a few minutes ago."

"It wasn't real to you then," Leonardo said. "Now it is and you know you wouldn't do it."

"A lot of good that does now," Raphael shot back. "Barney is still dead."

"You can help us find the laptop," Leonardo said. "Baxter really needs that help right now."

Raphael slowly nodded. "Okay. I'll do it. There's nothing else I can do."

Leonardo gave him a sad smile. "Sometimes being there for someone is the best thing you can do."

"Baxter probably won't even want me around now," Raphael muttered. " _I_ sure wouldn't want me around."

"Give him a little time," Leonardo said. "He was speaking in shock and grief. I don't think he meant what he said."

"I'd mean it if it was me," Raphael said as he trudged off.

Leonardo sighed sadly. This was definitely going to be hard on everyone involved. Baxter would likely never be the same. And right now, Leonardo doubted Raphael would, either.

xxxx

Krang stood staring at the transdimensional screen, thoroughly displeased at the broadcasting snow that filled it. "Something went wrong," he said. "The camera on my Snowcatcher shorted out! That red-masked Turtle was throwing his weapon into the vacuum and suddenly it started to blow up."

"I knew that machine was a ridiculous idea," Shredder growled. "And what about Barney?"

"He was trying to get off the Snowcatcher," Krang replied. "But the explosion happened so fast, I don't think he made it."

"That moron," Shredder frowned.

"He's not a ninja master like you," Krang retorted. He turned away from the screen. "And maybe even you couldn't have escaped that blast."

"What are you going to do, Krang?" Shredder asked. Somehow he had the feeling he wasn't going to like it.

"We're taking Bebop and Rocksteady and going to the surface to look for Barney," Krang answered. "There's probably nothing to find, but I want to be sure."

" _You're_ coming too?" Shredder raised an eyebrow.

Krang paused and looked back. "If I'm not there, you might try to abandon him if you find him, just like you did at the Floxy Theatre."

"You really want him back," Shredder scowled.

"You have your mutants and I have Barney," Krang answered. "You know good help is so hard to find."

"Nothing's improved since Barney joined us," Shredder retorted.

Krang smirked. "Actually, it's been kind of nice having someone around here who's on my side. Barney won't let you get away with much." He headed for the nearest transport module. "Now go find Bebop and Rocksteady so we can leave."

Shredder turned away in annoyance. "I hope the obnoxious little weasel _is_ dead," he muttered. "Then I won't have to deal with any more of his mouthing off to me."

"I heard that," Krang called.

Shredder scowled more.

xxxx

The snow howled like the mournful cry of lost souls as it swirled down the mountainside and spread itself over a lifeless body lying at the bottom. The person was sprawled mostly on his side, desperately clutching a purple laptop to his chest.

The device whirred to life. "Barney? Barney, please wake up. Buddy . . ."

Of course there was no response. The alien computer motherboard that powered the laptop, now called Vincent by Barney, really knew there was no hope. The email that was pre-programmed to send if Barney's heart stopped had been sent. Baxter was no doubt looking for the laptop via the included GPS signal.

The memories of the last several minutes had been terrifying. Barney had leaped off the Snowcatcher just as it had exploded. The force of the blast had propelled them both over the cliff and down the mountainside. Upon impact at the bottom, Barney's heart had stopped, the email had sent, and Vincent had . . . well, if a computer could black out, Vincent had managed it. Now Vincent was awake and hoping against hope for the impossible.

There was very little he knew he could do under the circumstances. All he could really try was to get warm and press that warmth against Barney. He knew enough about human physiology to know that the cold could impede someone's vital signs. To warm the person again could, in some cases, revive them. Vincent wasn't ready to say Goodbye to Barney, the second friend he had ever made. So he would try what he could. He just had to be careful not to warm up so much that he overheated and shut down.

Sadly, it didn't seem that this was one of those times where the person could be brought back, at least not without even more warmth than Vincent could offer. No matter how he tried, Barney remained just as still and cold.

Sorrowfully, Vincent at last conceded defeat. He was all alone now, just as he had been when the aliens had died and the ship had stood abandoned for centuries, and just as he had been when he had been shoved into a vacant room on the Technodrome. Each time, being alone seemed to get worse. He had never before experienced this, lying in the dead person's arms and being plagued by memories of when they had been alive. Barney had been alright only a few minutes ago, and now he was just _gone._ No last words, no Goodbye . . . just cold silence and death.

"I wish you'd tried to get away from Shredder and Krang, Barney," Vincent said quietly. "Now it's too late."

To his shock, one of Barney's hands weakly moved. "What . . . ?"

Overjoyed, Vincent watched as Barney's eyes opened. "Barney! You're alive!"

"I am . . . ?" Barney grimaced. "I'm in too much pain not to be, but . . ."

"Your heart stopped, Buddy," Vincent told him. "I'm afraid that email sent to Baxter."

Barney slowly pushed himself up, still holding onto Vincent. "Well, then that's good," he mumbled. "He'll be looking for you and he'll find us."

"He'll be so sad until he does, though. And it could take him a while to find us." Vincent watched Barney in concern. "Don't you need to keep moving to stimulate the circulation?"

"Yes . . . if I _can_ move." Barney tested his legs. "Amazingly, I don't think anything's broken. Oh." He swayed and one hand flew to his head.

"What's wrong, Barney?"

"Nothing. . . . I'm just a little dizzy. It's probably this blasted cold weather."

"Or maybe you have a concussion," Vincent worried. "Your eyes look alright, but that doesn't necessarily mean you don't have one."

"Speaking of sight . . ." Barney felt around in the nearby snow. "I can't see you very well. Are my glasses around here?"

"I think you lost them at the top of the mountain."

"Great." Barney closed his eyes, swaying again.

"Don't you keep a second pair with you in case of emergencies?"

"Yes, but to be honest, I'm not sure I can think straight enough to remember where I put them." Barney slumped backwards into the snow.

"Barney?!" Ever since Vincent had briefly experienced having a full body during one of his adventures with Baxter, he had wanted to have it again. But he couldn't remember ever wanting it as much as he did right now. Barney clearly needed help and there was so little a laptop could do.

Barney groaned. "I'll get up in a moment. . . . If I can. . . ."

Vincent stared helplessly at his friend. He could feel the rise and fall of Barney's chest, but Barney was blankly staring into the falling snow from the sky and seemed to be fading out of awareness of his surroundings. He really would die if he didn't receive the proper help soon. There was only one thing Vincent could think of to try next.

 _Baxter, help! Barney is alive but badly hurt._

He had the bad feeling that trying to send the email wouldn't work. The snow was growing stronger and they had fallen a great distance. Their own signal probably didn't work and it was highly unlikely that Baxter's phone was still operational under these conditions. But Vincent desperately hoped regardless. He had already thought he had lost Barney once. He wasn't going to let it happen again.

xxxx

Baxter glowered at his phone as _No Signal_ flashed incessantly across the screen. "It's a shame the Turtle-Comms don't access cellular towers or the Internet," he commented. " _They_ would probably still work up here."

"At least I can hone in on the GPS signal," Donatello said, holding up his beeping Turtle-Comm. "And it looks like we're going to have to go down the mountain."

Michelangelo doubtfully peered over the edge. "Dude, how could a laptop survive a fall like that?!"

"Maybe it rolled over and over down the side instead of plunging straight down," Donatello suggested.

"And Barney would have made it very durable besides," Baxter said quietly. "Barney must have really cared about Vincent. He did so much to try to ensure that it . . . he . . . oh, whoever . . . wouldn't fall into the wrong hands."

"Vincent?" Leonardo blinked.

Baxter blinked too. "That's strange. It was the computer's call sign. I saw it in the ship when we first met, but I haven't thought about it since then. It just came back to me now, subconsciously, as though it had never left." He shuddered. "I wonder what else might come back to me in the future."

"Whatever it might be, at least you can know it happened in the past," Michelangelo said.

"Just like Barney's life," Baxter responded.

Michelangelo swallowed hard. "Yeah."

Raphael shifted, averting his gaze. When Leonardo gave him a kind nod, however, he sighed sadly and looked back to their friend. "Baxter, I'm really sorry," he blurted. "I didn't mean to do what I did. I mean, I didn't mean for Barney to die. I just thought the machine would jam. I didn't know it would explode. I swear."

Baxter looked to him with sad and yet believing eyes. "I know," he said. "I screamed at you out of grief and anger. I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize," Raphael retorted. "Heck, if somebody killed one of the other Turtles, I don't think my rage would know any bounds. And I don't know if I could ever forgive them."

"That's not a surprise, given that you can't forgive Barney when he didn't actually kill Michelangelo and didn't want to," Baxter answered.

Raphael's shoulders slumped. "How can _you_ be so forgiving? You should be pounding on me and screaming and cursing or something."

"Maybe I will when it really sinks in," Baxter admitted. "I think I'm still numb. But I know you didn't mean to do it." He sighed. "As to seemingly being more forgiving, it's hard to explain to someone who has never walked a path of darkness, but knowing the dark feelings that drive someone down those roads makes it so much easier to understand them . . . and sometimes, to forgive them." He looked at Raphael. "I said once that I didn't think I'd forgiven Barney for the things he did to deliberately hurt me. I'm not sure I ever did."

"Well, if you haven't, it's even more incredible that you've been so kind towards him," Raphael said. "You two are as different as night and day."

"We're similar in some ways," Baxter told him. ". . . And I'm still talking about him in the present tense."

"So am I," said Raphael. "I guess without a body, it's hard to really accept it's real."

"There's no body," Baxter said, his voice laced with sadness. "He's completely gone."

Raphael stabbed the snow with his sai. "Man, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, I think I found the best path down, Dudes," Michelangelo somberly interrupted. "I'm gonna attach my grappling hook right here and we can all go down." He hooked it between two strong boulders.

"That's great," Leonardo said. "Thanks, Michelangelo."

They all started down, with Leonardo in the lead and Baxter right behind him. All were wondering what they might find at the bottom, but none of them could imagine the truth.

xxxx

Vincent wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried when Barney sat up again without warning. But he was definitely worried when Barney gathered him up and started struggling to stand.

"Barney, what are you doing?!" he exclaimed.

"I need to keep moving," Barney mumbled. "Circulation. . . ."

"Well, you'd better stay right in this area," Vincent said in concern. "Baxter will be following the GPS signal. He should be here soon."

"I won't go far," Barney promised. But he was so dazed that Vincent wasn't terribly confident of that.

"Barney, you can't even see," Vincent reminded him.

"I can see," Barney retorted. "It's just that it's a blur." He took several steps forward and swayed. "Keep talking to me. Give me something to focus on. Tell me about your adventures on the alien ship."

Not knowing what else to do, Vincent complied.

For a time it seemed to work. Barney walked in what seemed to be a wide circle, focusing on Vincent's words and asking questions about the tales. But as he tired, he could no longer focus. And, Vincent suddenly realized in alarm, he had stopped walking in a circle. Even through the swirling snow, Vincent could see that Barney had wandered off ahead.

"Barney, you've left the area where we fell," he cried.

"If the signal still works, Baxter will still find us," Barney mumbled. He slumped against a pine tree.

"Barney, now it's you who should talk," Vincent said. "You can't concentrate on my words any longer."

"What should I talk about?" Barney grunted. "Funny; normally I can't stop talking, but now I can't seem to think of anything to say."

"It doesn't matter what you say," said Vincent. "Just talk."

"The only thing I can even think of is that I'm sorry to put you through this. I'm even sorry to do it to Baxter." Barney sank to the snow-covered ground. "It would have been better for me to have died in the first place rather than to live and still die. That's just cruel."

"Barney, don't talk like that!" Vincent cried. "You're going to make it!"

"I wish I had your confidence." Barney slumped forward, his head nearly touching the top of the laptop.

Vincent was out of every option he could think of, except one. "Do you believe in God, Barney?"

"What?" Barney scoffed. The unexpected question revived him enough that he straightened and regarded the laptop in disbelief.

"Well, I thought that maybe if you believed in one of the gods in an Earth religion, I could pray to Him for you," Vincent said.

"That would be sacrilegious," Barney grunted.

"For a computer to pray?"

"For anyone to pray for someone like me. God wouldn't care about me. Not after what I've done."

"So you do believe in God," Vincent mused, "but you doubt He believes in you."

"I guess you could put it like that," said Barney.

"I studied your Earth religions after the ship first landed here," Vincent said. "At least one of your books of scripture says that God rejoices over even one sinner that repents."

"I haven't repented, though," Barney smirked. "I doubt I even could. Not when I knew from the beginning that what I was doing was wrong and I just didn't care." Weary sadness flickered in his eyes. "The only thing that mattered to me was my precious fame and glory."

"And now?"

"Now I . . . just want you to be safe." Barney seemed to be fading again. "I know I won't have my fame and glory unless Shredder and Krang conquer the world, and I'm not even that keen on helping them do it anymore. It's just that there's no way out for me . . . except death, and that's not any kind of an improvement if you believe in Hell."

"I don't want to believe that, Buddy."

"Who does?" Barney laughed, looking up at the underside of the lowest pine boughs.

"I fail to find anything funny about this situation."

"Maybe that's the joke," Barney mused. "It's not funny at all." His arms relaxed and his eyes sank closed.

"Barney?!" Vincent stared at him. "Barney, please don't do this. It won't be much longer and Baxter will come. If you can just hold on a little longer . . . !"

It looked like Barney was still breathing. But he was wearying, either from the probable concussion or the cold. Or both. And even though he had felt it sacrilege to pray for him, Vincent didn't agree. He prayed that Barney would be able to hold on until help came. And he prayed that help would indeed come quickly. He really wasn't sure how much longer Barney could last under these conditions.

xxxx

Shredder scowled as the module came up near the site of the explosion and he stood looking at the smoking remains. "Well, there's your precious Snowcatcher, Krang," he snapped from the open doorway. "One more failed plan."

"So it had a few bugs," Krang shot back.

"Including one that was most likely fatal for Barney." Shredder got out of the module and stormed across the snow to what was left of the machine. "He's nowhere around; he couldn't have got away in time."

"You just keep talking like that because you want him to be dead." Krang got out as well and clomped over to the scene.

"I don't like him. So sue me."

"And to think, you're the one who brought him to me in the first place," Krang sneered.

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" Shredder grumbled.

"No!" said Krang.

Bebop and Rocksteady jumped out of the module and stood staring at all the snow on the ground and the new snow that was swirling around them. "Hey, this place is pretty," Bebop said.

"We should make snow forts and have a snowball fight!" Rocksteady declared.

"You fools! We're not here for pleasure!" Shredder snapped.

"Well, I don't think we're gonna find Barney," Bebop said.

"You might be standing on him right now," Rocksteady added.

Bebop frowned. "That's creepy."

"But probably accurate." Shredder looked to Krang. "Why don't we just leave?"

"Because I'm not convinced yet." Krang walked over to the edge. "He could have fallen down the mountain."

Shredder looked over the edge with him. "I don't see anything."

"So we'll get closer!" Krang went back to the module. "We'll go down in this."

Muttering to himself, Shredder followed. "Come on, you idiots," he growled at Bebop and Rocksteady as he went.

"Coming, Boss," Rocksteady called.

xxxx

The snow was even stronger when the first group descended the mountain at last. But despite its fury, it hadn't completely concealed the evidence of what had happened.

"It looks like something fell here," Leonardo said, pointing to a spot not visible from the top of the mountain. "But it looks way too big to have been a laptop."

"And yet this _is_ the area where the signal was originally coming," Donatello said. "I don't understand this either, but it's moved."

Baxter stared at the impression in the snow, his heart gathering speed. He knew what it looked like it meant . . . what he wanted to believe it meant . . . but was that foolish? Or was it instead foolish not to believe it?

"Barney fell here!" he cried. "He had to! Look." He fought his way over to the indention and laid down in it.

"You fit perfectly, Dude," Michelangelo said in amazement.

"And so would Barney." Baxter pushed himself up. "That's how the laptop survived the fall; Barney was holding it all the way down!"

"But Barney was dead, even if he wasn't blown up," Donatello protested. "You received that pre-programmed email that would only send if his heart stopped."

"Then it started again!" Baxter retorted with impatience. "It wouldn't be the first time someone has been clinically dead and revived. Barney had to have fallen here, and he had to have gotten up and taken the laptop with him!"

"Or someone else took him," Raphael said.

"These footprints are his size," Baxter replied. "They go around and around. He was walking, trying to keep the circulation going. And then he . . . wandered off." He gazed at the half-obscured footprints trailing into a forest up ahead.

"Then we have to follow them and find him," Leonardo determined.

"Well, the signal _does_ go into those trees," Donatello said slowly. He went out ahead with the Turtle-Comm. "Let's keep going."

Baxter ran after him, even with the snow as high as it was. "Barney!" he screamed. "Where are you? Can you hear me?"

Raphael lagged behind. "I'm afraid he's just hoping against hope," he said to Leonardo.

"Maybe he is," Leonardo replied. "But on the other hand, maybe he's right."

"I want him to be right," Raphael sighed. "I know he still loves that creep of a brother he has. And I still don't want to think that something I did killed him. But I don't want to live in denial either."

"Right now, the facts actually point to Barney having survived," Leonardo said. "It would be foolish to deny _that._ "

"But why'd he zone out in here?" Michelangelo frowned.

"That worries me," Donatello confessed. "He must have been hurt in some way by the fall, if not by the explosion. For him to veer off into the trees, he may be pretty out of it."

"Barney!" Baxter called in desperation. "Vincent!"

"Baxter!" came Vincent's relieved voice. "We're over here."

Baxter struggled through the snow in that direction. When he came upon the tree in question and found Barney slumped lifelessly against it, his heart leaped into his throat. "Barney?!"

"He's still alive, old pal," Vincent told him. "But I'm afraid he's not doing so well."

Baxter knelt in the snow and gently took Barney's wrist, feeling for a pulse. "His heart's slowing down," he said in anguish. "It already stopped once today." He looked pleadingly at the Turtles as they caught up. "I can't lift him! Please, help him. I can't let him die, not when there's still a chance to save him!"

Raphael drew a shaking breath. "I'll take him," he said. "Get Vincent or whoever."

Michelangelo blinked in surprise. "Raphael, are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure!" Raphael snapped. "This was my fault. I'll do what I can to fix it."

Baxter quickly lifted the laptop. "Thank you."

Raphael bent and took Barney's limp form in his arms. "Later on, I'm probably going to think back on this and wonder what the heck I was doing. After all, if he pulls through this, he's going to go right back to causing trouble for all of us."

"You'll think that you did the honorable thing," Leonardo said. "And you won't regret it."

"Maybe." Raphael shivered. "Already I can hardly believe I'm holding Barney Stockman."

Barney groaned. "I can hardly believe it either."

Baxter hurried to his side. "Barney?! Barney, can you hear me?"

Barney opened his eyes halfway. "Yes, but I can't see you."

"Here." Baxter balanced the laptop with one hand while reaching into his pocket for Barney's glasses. Gently he slipped them on Barney's face.

"Thanks," Barney mumbled. "Is Vincent alright?"

"I'm just fine, Barney," Vincent assured him.

April came forward. "I have a blanket I brought from the Turtle Van," she offered, holding it out.

"Okay, wrap it around him," Raphael directed. "He looks like he could use it."

April did so, making sure that it was snug but not uncomfortably tight. "There."

"Why are all of you being so nice to me?" Barney wondered. "I haven't been nice to any of you, Baxter included. By now I expect he'll be nice anyway, but I wouldn't have thought it of any of the rest of you."

"Honestly, Barney, I don't know," Raphael growled. "I still hate you. But . . ." He sighed. "I really didn't mean to try to kill you."

"And Baxter really cares about you," April added. "We can afford to show you a little kindness since we care about him."

"Plus, it's the honorable thing to do," Leonardo said. "We wouldn't feel right about not helping you."

"What happened, Barney?" Baxter asked in concern. "How badly are you hurt?"

Barney gave a weak shrug. "Nothing's broken . . . except maybe my mind. I may have a concussion. Either that or I was just dazed from the explosion and the fall and the cold made it worse."

"We tumbled all the way down the mountainside," Vincent put in. "Barney might not remember."

"I don't," Barney mumbled. "Not really. I remember jumping off the Snowcatcher and being propelled off the mountain by the force of the explosion, but my memories end there. If I was conscious after that, I have no memory of it."

"You were conscious," Vincent said. "You were trying to protect me. Then we hit the bottom and you . . . died. . . ."

Raphael flinched.

"I don't remember being dead, either," Barney said. "I know my heart stopped or that email wouldn't have sent, but as far as I remember, I just blacked out."

"Maybe you didn't leave your body," Baxter said. "Or you don't remember it. It's better if you don't." He shuddered. "The important thing is that you came back."

Barney averted his gaze. To Raphael, he actually looked somewhat guilty. Maybe, incredibly, Baxter's attitude was making him regret the cruel things he had said to Baxter when this situation had been reversed.

"We'll get you back to the Van as soon as possible, Dude," Michelangelo said.

"And then what?" Barney asked. "You'll still have to drive back to the city. After that, I suppose you'll take me to the hospital . . . if I'm still alive by then."

"There's no way around that, Barney," Baxter said. "You'll have to go. Of course you'll still be alive!"

Raphael started to walk back through the woods carrying Barney. Everyone else followed.

"And once I'm stabilized, then what, Brother?" Barney looked to Baxter with clearer eyes. "I won't be allowed to go free. I'll be put back in prison after everyone saw me on television as part of Shredder's crew. Or worse . . . I could end up committed, like you were."

Baxter stopped walking, the color draining from his face.

"Could you do that, Baxter? Could you be responsible for sending me to the insane asylum?"

The others stopped walking as well and looked to Baxter in concern. "He's just messing with your head," Raphael growled. "He'd go to prison."

Baxter shook his head. "We don't know that. Look at what they did to me! I wasn't even insane and I was committed!"

"But you probably wouldn't have been if Barney had helped you," Leonardo said.

"Look, Baxter, your brother needs medical attention," Raphael insisted. "If getting arrested is part of the deal, then that's the way it has to be. He made his own choices and those are the consequences of them. You can't just do nothing. Then he really might die! We don't know what's wrong with him."

Baxter still stood where he was, agonized and conflicted. "You could help him back at the Lair, couldn't you?" he said to Donatello, who flinched at being put on the spot.

"Well, I could try," he said slowly.

"Baxter . . ." Barney looked to him again. "I'm not denying I deserve to be in prison. But I don't feel I can deal with that right now. Can you send me there in good conscience?"

"I can't not do everything I can to help you recover!" Baxter cried.

"Recover for what?" Barney retorted. "If I have to go back to prison, I might as well be dead!"

Baxter's eyes flashed. "Don't say that!" he shouted. "You wouldn't be in prison forever. You probably wouldn't even be in there that long. What can they charge you with?! Being present on the scene?! We both know you weren't really part of what was happening there! You wouldn't have let Krang murder Mr. Fenwick!"

Barney gave him a dark smirk. "I don't know what I would have done."

Baxter wasn't deterred. "You are not a murderer! Don't you understand?!"

Something in Barney's mind finally snapped at that. "And why am I not a murderer?!" he yelled back. "Because you didn't die when I hit you with that crowbar?! My heart was filled with murderous intent! Does the fact that you didn't die somehow erase that?!"

"No!" Baxter shot back. "But you were angry, acting in the heat of the moment! As soon as you realized you had actually hit me, your entire attitude changed. It's one thing to feel so much anger that you think you really want to do something to someone. It's quite another to actually do it without remorse!"

"Stop making excuses for me!" Barney screamed. "Maybe I'm not a murderer, but I'm just as bad!" He struggled to get down from Raphael's arms. "I don't deserve your kindness. I don't deserve anyone's kindness! And it's too late for me; I can't be redeemed! Don't you understand that?! _I_ _ **can't**_ _be redeemed!_ "

"Hey, cut it out!" Raphael exclaimed. He tried to hold tighter to the little man without hurting him worse. "You're in no condition to go anywhere!"

"Please stop!" Vincent cried. "Barney, you're getting too emotional. That's only going to make it worse for you!"

Baxter rocked back, sickened. "You're right. Oh no. Barney, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to get you so upset. That's the last thing you need right now!"

"Obviously you two have still got problems," Raphael said. "But this isn't the time to air them!"

Finally Barney slumped back against Raphael, the fight going out of him. "Do with me as you will," he said wearily. "I'll accept whatever you choose."

The group resumed walking. Baxter rubbed the back of his neck, the conflict still swirling through his mind and heart. How could he be responsible for sending Barney to prison . . . or even to the asylum? How could he not get him to the hospital? Was there any way he could keep Barney out of prison if he got a good lawyer? There really wasn't anything that could be proved against him. But was it right to not send him to prison? How could he be allowed to roam free when he kept causing trouble? On the other hand, maybe letting him stay free would help more than hurt. He had worked against Shredder when Tribble had come to town. He might help them some more if he continued to disagree with Shredder's plans. The only reason for sending him to prison might be the thought of rehabilitation. But would prison really help? It changed some people for the better, but others for the worse. And after Barney had been even more bitter and angry after getting out of prison before, Baxter was afraid he fell into the latter category. How could he do something that might only prove even more destructive to his brother's well-being?

April walked alongside him. "I know you'll make the right decision, Dr. Stockman," she said kindly.

Now something in Baxter snapped. "How can you know that?!" he retorted. "I haven't made very good decisions for most of my life! Now I'm faced with a dilemma the likes of which I honestly never considered I would have." He looked at April in anguish. "I'm supposed to be one of the 'good guys' now. But what does that mean?! Is it good to do something that will result in my brother being sent to prison? Is it good to allow him to stay free?! What is right in this situation? And if I make the wrong choice . . . does that mean I'm not rehabilitated myself and I'm really not one of the 'good guys'?!"

April looked down. She honestly wasn't sure how to answer. "I don't know," she said softly. "I've never been faced with a dilemma like this either."

"Actually, you have," Donatello spoke. "Remember Mutagen Man? He actually tried to kill you while working for Shredder. But instead of pressing charges on him, we all tried to help him get back to normal."

"Yeah. You even went on a date with the dude after he got fixed up!" Michelangelo added.

"And honestly? I always thought that was gross," said Raphael. "He wasn't completely nuts like Baxter was when he did crummy stuff to us."

"The point is that we felt he wasn't a danger to society once he was back to normal," Donatello said. "And under the circumstances, I'm not sure what he could have been charged with anyway. I don't think anything would have stuck."

"But I _am_ a danger to society," Barney mumbled. "And even if you tried to let me go free, Shredder and Krang wouldn't let me. I got myself into this mess. It's just like working for gangsters; there's no way out."

"Wow. Master Splinter said that maybe Barney regretted falling in with Shredder and Krang," Michelangelo said. "I guess he really does."

"But if you just give up and stay with them because you think there's no way out, then they've won," Leonardo protested. "So have gangsters and all other criminals."

"Barney, you're not a quitter," Baxter spoke again. "You've never let anyone oppress you in your life. I can't believe you'll just roll over and do what someone else wants now."

Barney grunted.

"I can't let you go to prison," Baxter continued. "Maybe you deserve it, but I wouldn't feel right about being part of that. I believe you can better improve yourself and accomplish more good by being free. But you need medical help. I'll see that you get it. And if they do try to arrest you, I'll find you the best lawyer."

"You always were . . . good to me," Barney said quietly. "I never understood why."

"You're my brother," Baxter answered simply.

"That isn't a reason," Barney scoffed. "There are plenty of families that aren't there for each other."

"And I never wanted to be part of that," Baxter said. "That isn't who I am."

"Even though it's who _I_ am," Barney muttered.

"If it really was, you wouldn't have helped me more than once recently," Baxter said. "It's true; for most of my life, you were never there when I needed you. But you've started to change. And that has meant the world to me."

"I've never done as much as I could have," Barney said.

"It's more than you ever used to do," Baxter replied. "And you've put your very life on the line for me! That isn't a small thing."

"I've never been there for you when it came to the 'small things,'" Barney mused. "All the times when you needed a friend or a listening ear. . . . I never even sent you a Christmas card! I was too angry, too proud." He rested a hand on his forehead. "And you just took it for years and years."

"That doesn't mean I wasn't hurt," Baxter said.

"Of course you were hurt," Barney countered. "You'd have to either be an idiot or the perfect person to not be hurt." He sighed wearily, slumping farther against Raphael. His hand vanished under the blanket.

"Don't try to talk any more, Barney," Baxter told him. "You need to conserve your strength."

"We're almost out of the woods," Raphael said. "And I mean that literally. But suddenly it occurs to me . . . how are we going to get Barney up the mountain?"

"We'll find a way," Donatello promised. "I've been thinking on what would be the safest option. I would say either someone will have to go up while holding Barney or else one of us will go up first and then draw Barney up with a rope around his waist."

"All that for me," Barney mumbled.

"Everything's going to be alright, Buddy," Vincent spoke. "Then you'll be warm and safe in that van while we're going back to town."

Baxter looked to him in unspoken surprise. He had never heard Vincent call anyone else pet names before. But then he smiled. Vincent and Barney were obviously very close. That was good for both of them. Rather than feeling jealous, Baxter was happy.

Everyone jumped a mile when a transport module suddenly glided through the snow and landed in front of them in the clearing.

"Brace yourselves, Dudes," Michelangelo said. "Now we've got more trouble."

"I guess Shredder's wondering what happened to Krang's darling little Snowcatcher," said Raphael.

The door opened and Krang lumbered out, followed by a grudging Shredder. Krang immediately took in the situation. "So, you've found Barney," he greeted. "And I see he's alive."

"And you're not getting your hands on him," Raphael declared. "He needs medical help."

"Ah yes. Naturally he would." Unconcerned, Krang stood and folded his tiny arms. His robot body followed suit. "So I have a proposal to make."

"We don't want to hear any proposals from you," Baxter snapped.

"Wait a minute, Brother." Barney weakly waved a hand at him. "What is it, Krang?"

"Come back with us, Barney," Krang said. "We can be back at the Technodrome in mere minutes. Compare that with the hours it might take your brother and his friends to get you back to the city. That's precious time that could be critical to your survival. And once aboard the Technodrome, you know I have the technology to make you well again, and in far less time than any Earth hospital could."

Again Baxter looked stricken. Krang actually had a valid point. Baxter had been worrying about the amount of time it would take them to get Barney back to the city and what condition Barney would be in by the time they arrived.

"It's a death trap," Raphael insisted. "You want him back so he'll keep making things for you to help you conquer the world."

"But he'll be alive and well," Krang answered calmly. "Who knows what he'll be like by the time you get back to Manhattan."

Baxter trembled. He looked to the Turtles, to April, to Barney, not sure at all what the right thing was to do. He wanted Barney to live, but he didn't want him to throw his life away by working for despots. Still . . . Barney's eyes were clear and he still seemed to be lucid. Maybe . . . as much as Baxter wanted to make this decision, he didn't even have the right.

"It's up to you, Barney," he said at last.

"I'll go with them," Barney answered.

Raphael frowned. "They're scum! And you're making yourself scum by being with them!"

"Krang's right about his technology," Barney said. "I want to be well again, and quickly. And without the threat of prison or the asylum hanging over my head." Again he took his hands out from under the blanket. "Give me my laptop."

Baxter hesitated. He and Vincent exchanged a silent look and goodbye before Vincent switched the screen to the Desktop so as not to let Krang or Shredder see him. Then, sighing sadly, Baxter held out the laptop and gently laid it in Barney's arms.

Barney closed the lid. "Thank you."

Baxter nodded. "Let me know when you're better," he implored.

Barney paused, looking at him. "I will," he said at last.

Krang stepped forward, taking Barney from a glowering Raphael. "You'll probably regret this, everyone, but it _was_ his decision," he said in a mocking tone.

"Yeah, yeah." Raphael glared at him. "Get out of here and go make him better."

"Until we meet again, Turtles," Shredder spoke at last. He sullenly trailed after Krang into the transport module.

"I get the feeling Shredder doesn't like this any better than we do," Leonardo commented.

Baxter watched as the module dove down under the snow and into the ground. Then he stood, trembling, staring at the spot where it had vanished. "Did I do the right thing?" he said in anguish.

"You left the decision up to Barney," Leonardo said quietly. "None of us like what he chose, but he was competent enough to make that decision. You couldn't take that right away from him. That would be the same as your rights being taken away when you were unfairly committed to the insane asylum."

At last Baxter nodded. "I suppose you're right. But . . . I think he would have agreed to come with us if Krang hadn't shown up."

"I think you're right. At least at first. Maybe he would have regretted it later. And maybe he really would have been worse off by the time we could get him back to town." Leonardo laid a hand on his shoulder. "We have to think about that aspect of it too."

"Maybe I can redesign the Turtle Van with more medical equipment so we won't have this problem another time," Donatello said.

"Maybe," Baxter agreed, but he sounded vague. "It won't help things this time, though."

"No, not this time." Leonardo regarded him with compassion. "But now I really think you're right that Barney can be redeemed. There will be other chances."

"I don't think there can be any chances until he believes it himself," Raphael said. "The guy really hates himself and what he's becoming. Of course, it's his own fault for getting in this mess."

"That's true," said Leonardo. "But do I detect a hint of compassion for a wayward soul who got in over his head and now deeply regrets it?"

Raphael averted his gaze. "Maybe Baxter's right that he deserves a chance to make good. That's all."

Leonardo smiled. "Everyone deserves that chance."

"For sure, Dude," Michelangelo chirped. "And I think Barney will take it yet."

April didn't look as sure, but she said, "And if he does, I know his brother will support him every step of the way." She bent down, kissing Baxter on the cheek.

Baxter turned bright red. "I will," he agreed. "If he'll have me."

"Well, if he won't, he's an idiot," Raphael said.

Leonardo smiled at the group. "Alright, everyone. Let's go home."

Everyone agreed.

As they walked, Baxter took out his phone and looked down at the blank screen. He hoped that Barney would keep his promise and let him know when he felt better. Part of him feared Barney wouldn't; he had been surprised when Barney had said he would. Still, he wanted to believe Barney would be true to his word. For now, he would remain confident that Barney would.

xxxx

It was late that night, when Baxter was working on turning his invention's design into a three-dimensional model on his computer, that the notification came in of a new email. Hopeful yet apprehensive, he clicked.

 _I'm alright, Brother. Thank you for what you tried to do for me. Vincent says Hello._

 _Barney_

For a long moment Baxter sat there, gazing at the email. The body of it was only one line, but it said so much more.

Finally he smiled. "You're welcome, Brother," he said quietly. "I'll do much more than that yet."


End file.
